Someone Worthwhile
by monini
Summary: Well, fine then. She turned around and began to walk away. He didn’t deserve her apology. But even as she told herself that, the guilt over his problems with his father swelled up again. Mentally kicking herself, she turned around once more. HG/DM


Someone Worthwhile

Rated T for language.

AU – sixth year, Lucius not in jail, no Dumbledore task.

It was September 1st once again, and platform 9 ¾ was full of crying mothers, stressed-looking fathers, wailing younger siblings and Hogwarts students. There were two distinct groups of students – those who were smiling in happy anticipation of their return to school, and those looking morose. Ron belonged to the second group, preferring to bum around at the burrow and avoid his Mum rather than to bum around at school and avoid homework. Harry and Hermione, however, were practically beaming. There was no question why Hermione was so happy, and she liked to tell herself that Harry loved Hogwarts because he loved learning as much as she did, as false as she knew that to be.

Harry and Ron began talking to Seamus, and Hermione was happy to feign interest in the conversation until the topic turned to quidditch. She excused herself and made for the train, lugging her bags behind her. When she got to the door, she picked up Crookshanks in his carrying box and climbed into the car to find a compartment. She would return for her bags once she'd found one.

After setting Crookshanks down on the seat of an empty compartment and promising a quick return, Hermione ran back to fetch her bags. She reached the door, and was about to hop out when something caught her eye.

The Malfoys were standing a few yards away, Lucius's back was to her, but Hermione could see a determinedly blank stare on Draco's face.

"You could wish me a pleasant term," Draco coldly suggested.

Lucius sneered. "I'd wish you a pleasant term if I thought you deserved one. As it is, I'd sooner wish Mudblood Granger a good term than you – at least she has proven herself not to be a complete waste of magic."

Draco's eyes locked on Hermione's for a second before she jumped out of her trance, and jerked backwards into the car. He must have said something to his father, because Hermione then heard Lucius say, "Let her listen! What do I care? Maybe shame will motivate you to beat her exam scores, and prove yourself worthy of the Malfoy name. Merlin knows nothing else has worked."

And with that, he turned on his heel and beckoned to Narcissa, whose eyes flickered back and forth between her husband and her son before following Lucius out of the platform.

Hermione considered for a moment just going back to her compartment and fetching her bags later for fear of encountering Draco, but with a shake of her head, she wrote off that idea as ridiculous, and proceeded to hop out of the car to retrieve her bags.

But, as fate would have it, the second she convinced herself to not be worried, she found herself face to face with Malfoy. He fixed her with a deathly cold stare, which she returned before returning to her compartment with her bags. Harry and Ron soon joined her, and the rest of the train ride would have been considerably more pleasant, if she could stop thinking about Malfoy.

She groaned to herself - this was a great start of term.

***

Hermione had always suspected that Draco's home life was less than perfect. He had always made too big a deal out of packages and letters from home, boasting about them to his fellow Slytherins. On top of that, there was the absolute fact that a loving, supportive family could never have raised such a cold-hearted son. Dumbledore had practically spelled it out for them last year when he had advised Harry not to judge Draco too harshly, because "You never know what kinds of awful things people deal with when you aren't looking." Lucius was a death eater, for God's sake. How could he possibly be a good father?

She supposed it was the actual proof that changed everything. Now that she had evidence and absolutely no doubts in her mind, Hermione couldn't just dismiss his private suffering with a shrug and change the subject.

As much as she told herself that it wasn't her fault, Hermione was hit with a wave of guilt whenever she saw Malfoy. She found her eyes betraying her during meals, during classes, before she caught herself staring and forced her gaze elsewhere. It was not her fault that his father was awful, even if she was the one to whom he compared his son. If not her, it would have been someone else. She knew what Ron and Harry would say, "The git deserves it Hermione! You are the best student in our year. Precious Draco can't have _everything_." There was no logical reason, whatsoever, to feel guilty about what she had heard that day on the platform, but she felt guilty. So guilty. And it was awful.

And Hermione caught herself making excuses for his behavior. He would say something awful, and she'd think, oh, but he has an awful home life. He would be entirely rude, and she would just pity him. That frustrated her beyond belief. Pitying him? Malfoy did not deserve her pity. Ron and Harry were right; one imperfect aspect of his life did not absolve him of his sins. Harry had it much harder than Draco ever did, and he was able to treat others with kindness and respect. No, she was just being silly. She was being frustratingly compassionate – sometimes, her natural tendencies were just annoying. "There must be a spell to fix that," she hoped.

***

It was surprisingly not in one of her episodes of Draco-thought when she felt herself crash into Malfoy, her books strewn everywhere.

"Watch yourself, Mudblood!" Malfoy sneered, receiving an appreciative chuckle from his Slytherin peers.

"Wow, how original. Did you work on that all night?"

Choosing to ignore the first part of her retort, "Actually Mudblood, I spent last night thinking of something a bit more stimulating. Would you like to hear about it? I was all alone in my room, innocently minding my own business when Pansy walked in, naked, and got under the covers with me, and then of course she --"

"Fuck you Malfoy!"

"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? News flash Granger – no male would ever touch you, not even with a ten foot pole."

Hermione grew a little red at that, and her eyes flashed as she retorted, "at least people care about me, Malfoy. Even your own father prefers me to you!" She nearly winced as soon as she heard the words leave her mouth.

For that statement, she received a few raised eyebrows from the Slytherins. Draco's face froze for a moment, as though stunned, but then returned to his scowl, with indignant fire in his eyes now. "My father would kill you in a second, Mudblood. You're less than a squished ant under his boot."

Hermione just rolled her eyes and turned around to continue on her way to class. She had to pace herself to keep from running, and she could feel this uncomfortable heat inside her and his fixed stare on her back. Perhaps it was the adrenaline? Or her anger? Yes, that had to be it.

As she sat in class for an hour, Hermione could no longer convince herself that the discomfort was adrenaline. Was it guilt? Shame? Hermione wasn't in the practice of doing things that she was ashamed of, and thus concluded that that must be it. Shame, at least, explained why the heat wouldn't leave her stomach an hour later. It didn't help that she glanced back at Draco's empty seat every few minutes.

This was a habit she needed to break - it was starting to impact her schoolwork! She would not let stupid Malfoy get to her. She needed to end this, and she needed to end this now.

Hermione quickly raised her hand to excuse herself to use the bathroom, and went out in search of Draco. She didn't have to go very far. In an empty classroom in the corridor where they'd argued, she found him. His silhouette looked defeated, with sagging shoulders and a heavy head. As she approached, he heard her footsteps and looked around. She could see his bloodshot eyes, and blotchy face. The guilty heat increased tenfold.

"I – "

"Get away from me, Mudblood!" Hissed Draco, looking up at Hermione with icy hatred in his eyes.

Well, fine then. She turned around and began to walk away. He didn't deserve her apology. But even as she told herself that, the guilt over his problems with his father swelled up again. Mentally kicking herself, she turned around once more.

She took a deep breath and - "I shouldn't have said what I said and I'm sorry," her voice dying to a whisper at the end.

Malfoy's eyes once again lost their ability to hide his emotions, and turned to fire. His cheeks turned a humiliated pink.

"I don't want your pity, Granger, or your sodding apology. You're only apologizing to absolve yourself! So go ahead, walk away with your fucking frizzy head held high, because the great Granger, always high and mighty, _apologized_. Pretend your fucking conscience is squeaky fucking clean and get the hell out of my sight!"

Hermione turned around and began walking away before he'd even finished ranting. Even so, she could feel her eyes prickle, and she had to breathe through her mouth down the rest of the hallway so that Malfoy wouldn't hear her sniffle.

So, that went well. She felt like shit.

***

Hermione gasped as she watched Harry dive for the Snitch at the first Gryffindor-Slytherin match of the season, a few yards ahead of Draco. The whole crowd roared with applause and cheering when he ascended again, the little golden ball in his fist.

Hermione joined in the cheering, but was distracted when she saw a flash of platinum blond in the teachers' section. A visiting Lucius Malfoy had spun around suddenly, and was stalking off of the bleachers as quickly as possible.

Deciding not to care, Hermione and some of her Gryffindor classmates made their way to the locker room to congratulate the winning team. She ran up to Harry and hugged him, smiling brightly before making way for others to congratulate him. She stayed in the locker room long past most of the other fans, speaking to Ron and Harry. They eventually decided they'd meet back up at the castle, and she made her way out.

As she passed the Slytherin locker room, Hermione heard a voice she thought she recognized as Lucius Malfoy's, and so slowed her walk. Once she turned the corner, she pressed herself against the wall of the building, and listened.

"Can't you see that I'm trying?" she heard Draco ask desperately.

Lucius answered in a smooth quiet tone, so it was hard for Hermione to hear most of his speech. Already though, she could feel her pathetic heart reaching out for the awful boy. It's not your fault! And he doesn't deserve your pity! Walk away walk away walk away… She was brought back to the outside world by Lucius's voice.

"Don't bother coming back for Christmas unless you've proven yourself worthy of my attention."

She then heard the loud crack of an ivory cane against human skull, and watched as Lucius Malfoy strode out of the locker room, a sneer fixed on his face.

Once Lucius was out of earshot, Hermione heard a male whimper that she assumed could only belong to Draco. She almost began the trek back up to Hogwarts castle, when she heard Malfoy's cracking voice.

"Episkey. Episkey! Episkey, goddamn it, episkey!"

Hermione felt that familiar heat in her stomach, and knew that if she left Draco unable to heal himself, she'd absolutely die of guilt later. Rolling her eyes at her dramatic tendencies, she turned around and cautiously entered the Slytherin locker room. What she saw only made her feel worse, despite how much she hated Malfoy.

He was leaning over a sink, staring at himself in the mirror, while attempting to heal the wound above his left eye that was bleeding rather profusely. He wiped at his leaking eyes and nose, and his frustration with the spell and with himself quickly mounting.

Hermione's next step echoed around the locker room and Draco looked around, startled to see the girl so close to him. After a moment's hesitation, he hissed at her "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off, Granger? I don't need your pathetic pity!"

See? He said it himself. He doesn't need your pity, you stupid girl. But Hermione only looked at him with a frown on her face, aimed her wand at his head, and said clearly, "Episkey." The wound healed flawlessly, leaving only the blood everywhere to indicate its previous existence.

"Never could pass up a chance to show off, could you?" Draco glared at the stupid frizzy haired girl who always seemed to show up at his weak moments.

"Don't read too much into it. Thought I'd practice that on someone I couldn't care less about before I used it on someone I cared for. In case I messed up, you know?" Despite her cold words, Hermione picked up a towel and walked forward to wet it in the sink, and handed it to the blond boy to clean himself.

Draco rolled back his sleeves to begin wiping his blood away, and Hermione gasped. Draco looked at her, confused.

"What?" He demanded.

Hermione glanced between his eyes and his left forearm, before letting out a sigh and looking back into his eyes. "No dark mark."

Draco laughed derisively at her, the sneer evident in his voice. "What, you and Potty though I was a death eater? Please." The sneer was still in his voice, but there was ill-disguised hurt in it as well as he continued, "even my father thinks I'm pathetic, what use could the Dark Lord possibly have for someone like me?"

A few more tears spilled from Draco's eyes, but he hastily wiped them away, leaving bloody smudges on his face. Hermione walked all the way up to him then, leaving only a foot between them, and looking up into his eyes. Her fingertips touched his arm as she said, gently, "Voldemort has no use for anyone worthwhile, Malfoy."

He merely looked back into her eyes for a moment, betraying no emotion, before returning to the task of cleaning himself. Hermione silently let herself out of the locker room, and returned to the castle.

***

It had been a few months since the quidditch incident, and Draco and Hermione appeared to interact exactly the same way they always had. They fought, they glared, they insulted, and they laughed at the other's expense. No one noticed that anything had changed, except Hermione and Draco themselves. Draco found he couldn't look her in the eye. Not after she'd seen him in such a weak state. Not after she'd reached out to him the way she did. His own friends wouldn't have done what the Golden-Trio's stupid bushy haired girl did. He wasn't about to go and be the girl's best friend, but his insults didn't sit right anymore, and he simply could not look her in the eye.

Hermione found, to her disappointment, that the guilty feeling she'd had since the beginning of the year refused to budge. She had thought, hoped, that by reaching out to Malfoy that day after the quidditch match she could ease her conscience – that, somehow, her good deed that day would neutralize the bad. What bad deed? Could one really be blamed for existing? No one could fault her for putting effort into her schoolwork. All the same, she continued to feel guilty. Hermione was so preoccupied with avoiding him, that she didn't even notice Malfoy's slightly altered behavior.

And things may have stayed that way forever after, if Draco hadn't taken over Prefect duties for a fifth year Slytherin one evening.

As he was making his rounds, careful to take off extra points from Gryffindor whenever possible, Draco heard what sounded like sniffling from behind a statue in a fourth floor corridor. He continued to walk, intent on pretending he hadn't heard anything, when he accidentally glanced in the direction of the statue. He cursed himself for his wandering eyes when he saw was huge brown hair, recognizing that hair in an instant. Whatever, though, let the mudblood cry. He didn't care.

But as Draco continued on his way down the corridor, an uncomfortably warm sensation grew in his stomach. The memory of Granger's eyes looking into his that day after his father had hit him flashed in his mind, and he shook his head to clear it. He ignored that uncomfortable reminder and moved on, but his face grew a little hot as he walked. Fuck, what am I, some soft-hearted Hufflepuff? The guilt of leaving Granger alone crying was eating at him, and so Draco glanced around first to make sure no one else would see, then doubled back to return to the sniffling girl.

Hermione had heard someone's footsteps coming closer, and so tried to stifle her sobs. She managed to keep them relatively quiet, and hoped that whichever prefect was doing rounds tonight would have the decency to leave her alone. The footsteps came and went, but just as she breathed a sigh of relief, they started getting louder again. Leave me alone! She pleaded silently. No such luck. The footsteps continued to get closer. She turned away from the unwanted intruder.

There was a presence behind her, of that she was sure. Hermione refused to turn around. A clearing of a throat. She still wouldn't turn around.

"Granger."

That couldn't possibly be who she thought it was. It couldn't be. No.

A sigh. "Granger, would you turn the fuck around already?"

Oh god, it was him. She slowly turned to face the blond boy, but still wouldn't meet his eyes. She wiped away tear tracks on her face, and observed the one visible scuff on his left boot.

"Are you alright?" His voice was uninterested. He didn't care, of course, for the girl's wellbeing. Why should he? He was only asking so that he could rid himself of that stupid guilty feeling.

"Fine."

Draco scoffed. "Obviously not. You're crying in the hallway."

"Well then that was a stupid question, wasn't it? You already knew the answer."

Malfoy sighed, "Granger, what's wrong?"

"Just leave me alone. You don't care, so stop pretending you do. Just go away." Her voice broke at the end of her plead, and she wiped more tears from her face. Rather than scoff at her or do as she requested, Hermione was surprised to see Draco lower himself to her level. He moved his face into her line of sight, so that she was forced to look at him.

"Just tell me." He said, tired of her excuses.

Hermione hesitated, but then opened up a little. Hell, what harm would it do? In a very quiet voice, she summarized: "Ron… Lavender. Such an assface."

Malfoy chuckled a little at that. "Agreed. But I don't see the how those two statements relate…"

Hermione sighed, maybe she'd feel better if he Ron-bashed a little. If Malfoy was good for anything, it was that. "He knows I… well… I have, you know, feelings for him." Her voice got a little stronger, laced with anger. "But he'd rather snog Lavender in the common room. Ronald has no use for a girl with any brains whatsoever!" She wiped away a few more tears.

Malfoy then surprised himself by reaching out, and placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She looked up into his eyes, more out of shock than conscious effort. Malfoy wore a sad half-smile on his face, continued to look into her eyes, and shrugged as he said, "Weasel has no use for anyone worthwhile, Granger."

Hermione's face felt hot, and she knew she'd turned a bright pink color.

But then he continued. "He's too stupid to see beyond the exterior. All he sees is Lavender's tits! That catches his attention. You can't really catch his attention that way, and, I mean, hey, it's not your fault. It's just that visually you aren't, well yeah...and he can't see past looks, so – "

Hermione's palm met the pale, smooth skin of his cheek with a resounding smack.

"Oh you asshole! Prick! Stupid prat –"

Draco was, at first, highly confused as to why she was so upset. His eyes then widened.

"Shit, Granger, it was just a joke! Don't you feel so much better? Less angry maybe?"

But she just yelled over him, face turning redder and redder with rage.

" – conniving little ferret! I can't believe you convinced me to spill my bloody guts to you! Such a jerk! Oh what Malfoy, you think just because you've never done anything but sneer at me, that a grin is going to change everything? I hope you go get burned almost to death, and then Sectumsempra'd - "

"Granger – shut up for a second will you?"

" – and then crucio'd! Serves you right. You're an awful human being, you know that?"

"Granger!"

"An awful, slithering, foul – "

Draco let out a groan of frustration. Then, acting purely on impulse, grabbed her and pulled her against him, and pressed his lips roughly against her own.

Hermione's eyes flew wide open. Oh.

After a moment of shock, she started pushing against his chest, wrenching her face away from his.

"What the – "

"I told you to shut up, Granger." before claiming her lips once again.

This time though, her eyes fluttered closed. He steered them backwards so that the cold, stone wall pushed into her back and his warm, hard body pressed against her front. His arms gripped her with alarming strength as they snaked around her torso. The raw power he exuded was intoxicating, and she found herself reciprocating the kiss with equal fervor, her hands going up to his neck, her fingers into his soft hair. What am I doing? She thought frantically. What – but then he moaned, and deepened the kiss. The analysis would just have to wait.

When they finally pulled apart for breath, Hermione looked up at Draco, shocked at what had just occurred. He smirked, looking down at her, with genuine mirth in his eyes.

"Never thought I could shut Granger up. Don't tell me that's what Potty has to do." He teased.

She scoffed, but then looked away shyly before returning his gaze as she answered.

"How'd you guess Malfoy? And let me tell you, he does it better. So it's going to take a lot more to impress me." Hermione's mouth turned upward in a smug grin.

Draco's smirked in return, a hint of the grin from before returning. He backed off a little, freeing her from his arms, not breaking eye contact just yet.

He winked.

"Maybe next time then...see you around, Granger."

He turned around, removed his wand from his pocket and walked off to continue his rounds without a backward glance. As soon as he turned the corner, Hermione let out a breath. Her fingers came up to touch where his lips had been, and her face flushed a hot, bright pink.

"Yeah...See you around."

The end.


End file.
